


Things Left Unsaid (FenrisxReader)

by AsomatousEmpyrean



Series: Drabble Age (Dragon Age AUs and whatnot) [1]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst and Feels, Drabble, Dragon Age angst, F/M, Gen, I'm sorry Fenris, M/M, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, The Plot Thickens, surprise I am also Dragon Age trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 23:16:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9094975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsomatousEmpyrean/pseuds/AsomatousEmpyrean
Summary: There were a lot of things he had meant to tell you. It had simply been too late.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So on top of OW I also am a trash heap for DA, and so here-forth I present an angsty drabble for my favorite 'There are no puppy eyes' elf. Written for the reader with Garrett or Marian also in there, but you can choose to read it with your female Hawke or your male Hawke and just pretend they're twins :')
> 
> Based on the prompt - ||Imagine person A carrying person B’s bloody, bruised body off the battlefield||

It had all gone so wrong so fast.

Someone had tipped off the slavers, they had hired more men than his contact had told him, and they had ambushed your party the second you had finished taking care of what he now knew had been little more than bait. Blood mages, assassins...normally easy enough to deal with, what with all the practice you all had by now, but after the extensive battle you had just fought, you were all exhausted.

How had he let this happen?

The silver-haired elf screams a mixture of rage and pain as he sees you go down, taking two mercenaries with you. The lyrium fires up in his veins, reacting to his anguish, and he doesn’t hesitate in tearing through the remaining scum that stands in his path.

Hawke is already at your side and pulling the bodies off of you by the time Fenris gets there. “Fenris, I’m-”

The warrior doesn’t listen, can’t focus on anything other than your pale face, on the blood that’s pooling around you. He picks you up, holding you close the way he wished he’d done last night after the huge fight the two of you had. He wished he had said something to you before heading out - apologized, joked,  _ anything _ other than the cold silence that had settled between the two of you in the early light of dawn.

There’s a dull roar in his ears as he stumbles away, away from the bodies and away from the friends he cannot face right now.

You’re so cold - _ too cold, you’ve never been this cold _ \- in his arms, and the farther he gets from the battlefield, the more the pressure in his chest and throat builds and builds and builds. Then he bursts, falling to his knees and clutching your body to his chest as he sobs, broken words falling from his lips like the tears from his eyes.

It’s a trickle at first, then they fall like a waterfall, every little thing he had refrained from telling you, from the way your presence had soothed him like no other to how he loved the way your eyes lit up whenever you saw him; like he was more than a wretched slave, more than a vengeance-driven elf - in your eyes he had always just been Fenris, the one you loved.

Now he was simply the man holding his shattered world in his arms, the space around him echoing with the words that had been left unsaid.


End file.
